


teapot

by bimrambles



Series: only time [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, M/M, Panic Attack, Post-Canon, Suicide Attempt Mention, its not that romantic or shippy sorry but the kleinsen is still there, jared is still very insecure, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 00:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimrambles/pseuds/bimrambles
Summary: they talk about the forty-foot oak tree.





	teapot

**Author's Note:**

> pls read the warnings in the tags!

“You don’t spend a lot of time outside for, uh, someone who owns a car.”

“W—well, you don’t know that.” He sputters out. “Driving is exhausting, maybe you should do it. Oh, wait, you’ll just crash us into a tree, with your shaky hands and—“ Jared cuts himself off. Evan miserably sinks into his car seat.

“That’s a low blow.”

“I know.”

It’s the closest “I’m sorry” Evan’s ever going to get, so he just smiles to himself and looks at the lines of trees zooming past out the window. It’s weird to talk to him again. Jared has spent exactly eight weeks and three days intentionally ignoring him after the Connor Project dissolved into nothing but a virtual mess that they have to clean up. Though he meant to, Jared really isn’t one to apologize first, after all. But neither was Evan. So it was up to Jared to muster up all his courage, take all of his power, seven missed calls and a message left at Evan’s voicemail to get him out of his house. He found himself at Evan’s doorstep at seven in the morning; _just like how we used to drive to school together_ , he thought, rapping on the bleached wood with his knuckles.

_“Jared, what do you want?”_

_“Hey, uh... was that yellow field you kept talking about a real place or something?”_

_“Are you—“_

_“This is a genuine question. Is it?”_

_“... yes? Is that all? You—you pretended I didn’t exist for like, one, two months, and you come here to ask about the yellow field?”_

_“This is me trying to apologize, you fucking idiot.”_

_“Yeah, well, I’m not hearing anything, so—“_

_“I thought long and hard, don’t be so fucking critical. You almost made my ears bleed yapping about that place, but I’m not going to get you some wheat grass and call it a truce. You bet your ass we’re going out to have some nice quality bonding time, climbing stupid trees and hanging out in this stupid field.”_

Evan closed the door behind him, walking down the porch steps to meet Jared’s gaze. He didn’t look good— his once-slick hair was sticking up the way it would when he hadn’t showered and just practically got out of bed (Evan would rather not elaborate how he knows this), eyes sunken and lips incredibly chapped. In fact, Jared’s lips were bleeding a bit, split open from the picking of his fingers as he waited for Evan to say something— _Oh,_ Evan snapped out of it, directing his gaze to the floor.

_“I think it’s nice that you’re actually apologizing, you know.”_

_“Get in the car before I change my mind.”_

Alarmingly far from home, Jared finds out that (shocker) trees are not the only things that Evan likes. Evan tells him that he likes books and swimming and collecting pebbles. Jared calls him pathetic before he admits that he collects bottle caps and likes to draw sometimes.

He thinks about it, too. He thinks about it a lot— the same story Evan told everybody, spending hours and hours with fake-Connor in that yellow field watching the clouds come and go; how Evan fell out of a forty-foot oak tree and fake-Connor drove him to a hospital— and Evan told it over and over, how fake-Connor was there for him when nobody else was. He thinks about it all the time, because he knew Evan had been alone, and Evan could only wish he had the fake-Connor who’d help him.

So here Jared is, admittedly being the fake-Connor that real-Connor never was— driving to the yellow field and looking for a good tree to climb.

And the thing about climbing trees is that it burns your hands. The coarse bark doesn’t particularly go well with soft hands like Jared’s (it seems as if he’s never done any kind of work his entire life)— it felt like he could be bleeding on his palms (he wasn’t). His knees were red and unpleasantly scratched up, so he decides to just hop back down to the ground to try again. He never had this as a kid, so, no— he doesn’t know anything about _outside_. He doesn’t know about camp, because nobody liked him at camp and it was more fun to hide in the tent anyways.

“You should step on the little— yeah, the little crook over there,” Evan tries to help him, offering words of encouragement. Jared hoists himself up a branch, taking deep breaths as he goes. “Looking great.”

“This is exhausting. I don’t even feel like climbing anymore.”

“Okay, good— you don’t have to, really.”

“Well, that’s weird. The Evan I know would jizz at the thought of climbing a tree. Worried you’ll break your other arm this time?”

Jared realizes he’s better off not saying anything about it, because then, Evan winces in distaste. He doesn’t know what’s up with that, but Evan sits underneath the tree. He trembles, eyes wandering higher and higher up the branches.

Evan has a panic attack. Jared helps him breathe, counting to four, starting over to count to seven, then to five.

He just wishes he’d been better to Evan. He despises himself for that, because they could’ve been wonderful friends. It’s a reality out of reach— a reality where Evan didn’t have to wait a solid twenty minutes before walking to the hospital with a broken arm when he could’ve asked for a ride from him, a reality where Evan wouldn’t have had to go dig himself a ditch in senior year. All of that would have been avoided if Jared had been _nicer_. There would be less mistakes. Less guilt. _Less... this_ , he thinks to himself as Evan hunches over the grass. He thinks he’s about to puke.

“This has to be my saddest attempt at apologizing yet. I should’ve stuck with handing you a tuft of grass.” He remarks, eliciting the softest laugh from the tired boy who turned out not needing to puke, after all. “What’s wrong?”

“...I don’t want to talk about it.” He whispers, but Jared shakes his head.

“Well, I’m not going to let you _not_ talk about it.”

“Jared, please, just— just shut up. I don’t, I don’t want to talk to you. Just don’t.”

“Okay, there we go with the shutting me out again.” Jared snaps suddenly. He doesn’t think twice. He doesn’t think about how Evan just had a panic attack, and he’s tired, and there are things he’s allowed to keep to himself. But because Evan specifically said, “ _I don’t want to talk to you,_ ”-- so direct as to provoke the other, the thing about Jared is that he has a lot of insecurities. One of which is that he’s so easily discarded, easily shut off, easily removed from people’s lives. _But fake-Connor? Evan was madly in love with fake-Connor after all, Jared bets Evan would rather have fake-Connor count to four-seven-five while he has trouble breathing. Fake-Connor, real-Connor, Connor, that kid is_ dead _._

It was difficult to ignore Evan on purpose after all those weeks, but it seems that Evan didn’t have the same notion. Jared can’t stand the thought of being so insignificant. He clenches his fist so hard, burning his palms more than it did against coarse wood. “You’d like that, don’t you!? You just want me to pack my things, leave, and never see you again— big _fucking_ deal, because I don’t want to!”

Evan doesn’t say anything.

“Oh yeah, I had the fucking audacity to show up on your doorstep after bailing on you for months, too! You’re probably thinking, who do I think I am!?” Jared feels his face get hotter as his blood rises. “But it wasn’t my fault you started turning me down because you were too busy fucking the girl of your dreams!”

Jared isn’t making any sense. Evan decides to rise above it, not to be as shallow, and he decides that even though he’s not ready, he’d rather say the truth than anything else.

“It was never like that!” Evan yells back. “And— and that has nothing to do with... with—“

“With what, Evan!? What the fuck did I do wrong!?”

“You didn’t, you didn’t do any— I tried to kill myself!” Evan breaks into a sob, bracing himself. Jared couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help his quivering lip, _you need to stop crying because if you start crying then I’m gonna start crying, and you’re gonna start crying even harder—_

“You...” Jared chokes on his tears, proceeding with an attempt to ask why but he couldn’t force any comprehensible word out of his own mouth. He realizes he doesn’t need to ask why. It makes sense, really. His stomach is churning now, because all those years of being a complete asshole to his only _friend_ are catching up to him. His eyes get glassy as he whispers, “You... when?”

Jared pales. No, no, no, it couldn’t be when they fell out, could it? He can’t bear the thought, no he—

“Summer, you know, the— the summer before senior year.” Evan stumbles among his words, “I—I fell off a tree, remember? I fell off, but I didn’t _fall_ off, I...” He swallows, “I _let go_ ; it was in the park, I just didn’t know what to do so I was...” Evan clamps his mouth shut, not wanting to say anything else.

“...you— you didn’t have anyone. Evan, I’m so fucking sorry, what the fuck was I thinking?” He finally bursts into tears, shaking, rubbing his eyes rigorously underneath his glasses. He’s not a pretty crier. Evan knows this— Evan isn’t a pretty crier either. He’s sobbing into his palms, muttering ‘I’m sorry’s over and over again, for as many times it would take to get the crushing weight off his chest. So much pent up anger and guilt, so many things he wants gone from his head, and he’s already tipped over and poured it all out.  “I didn’t know, oh my god, I’m so sorry— I didn’t know—“

Much to Jared’s surprise, he’s wrapped in a tight embrace. Evan doesn’t cry harder, he tries to help Jared calm down with him.

“It’s over, Jared. I don’t really— I’m good. I’ve been working on it.” He rubs circles on Jared’s back, waiting for him to cry it all out. “Shh, it’s—it’s okay.”

“...are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re okay,” Jared repeats, trying to convince himself. Evan smiles, cheeks still wet and arms still wrapped around the other. 

“And you’re not.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Jared breathes, being the first to pull away.

“You’re not.

“I’m... not.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !!  
> feedback is 100% appreciated  
> my tumblr is @bimnoodles <3


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